The Selection Room
by kolxhero-0
Summary: "Weeks? Months? Years? This, I do not know. In this place of torture, time does not exist..." A short story-contains yaoi in later chapters. RUxUSA
1. Chapter 1

The small concrete room was covered in a thick layer of muddy filth. Rows of humming fluorescent lights lined the ceiling. Collapsed in the center was a large pale figure. His hair was an ashy blonde, near white and overgrown. He was shackled to the floor with rusted iron chains, much to short for him the move more than a few inches. Horrendous wounds covered his bare body. Thankfully, the freezer-like temperature had kept infection at bay.

His brow trembled, awaking to the faint sounds of moans and uneven breathing. Close by a man was huddled in the corner. A shackle was secured uncomfortably tight around his ankle. He was young with childlike facial features. His dark wheat fringe had been ratted with mud, sticking up in places it was not meant to.

"Do I have a new roommate?" He asked in Russian, his native tongue. His voice was rough, dry from dehydration.

The youth's eyes flashed open. They were as cold and fierce as the Russian Tundra. A bright blue, the color of pure sapphire.

"Where am I?" He demanded. His speech was undoubtedly American. "What is this place?"

"An American?"

"I asked where I am, COMMIE SCUM!"

"Hush, hush." The Russian spoke calmly. "I do not think you should yell. If the guards hear, you will get some un-welcomed attention. You do not want, I promise."

The youth looked over to the heavy metal door, then back at the man shackled down to the floor. He cautiously crawled towards him.

"Where am I?" He asked again, quietly.

"I believed I was being held at an American Military Prison, but, now, I do not think."

"So, this place is not Russian?"

"No. I do not know even what the guards are. They do not speak, nor expose their faces. I have not the reason why I am being held here, nor you."

"How long have you been here?"

"Weeks? Months? Years? This, I do not know. In this place of torture, time does not exist. I have not seen past this room, since I have arrived. Occasionally I get a roommate, but they die before they even awake from the first beating. You are the only one, I have seen survive."

(Quick Short Story, just to keep me going. -Kolxhero-0)


	2. Chapter 2

"Useless commie." The America hissed and went back to his corner. He shivered from the cold that weathered his exposed flesh. The abuse from his captives was vividly etched over his entire body.

"Do you mind making conversation with me, before you die?" Asked the Russian, smiling. "It has been a long time since I have had company."

"I will not die here." The youth grumbled. "This will not be my casket."

The ashy blond chuckled deep.

"What is your name?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Ivan, my name is Ivan."

"Even, huh?" Snorted the younger man. "Mine is Alfred."

"Ivan." Corrected the Russian. "Nice in meeting you, Alfred."

"Don't say my name, its creepy." Alfred cringed. "So, your from Russia? You got family or. . .something?"

"A daughter, her name is Anastasia."

"I got my folks and a girl back home. Was raised as an all American and joined the airforce as soon as I could. I am the number one fighter pilot of all time. Been shot out of the sky 37 times and still kickin'."

"I carved wood."

"Sounds fascinating." The American sighed and ran a hand over his bruised shoulder. "I am starving."

"If I die first, you can eat me." Ivan said, half joking. "However, I doubt you will outlive me."

"Thanks for the offer, but, I am getting out of here." Alfred groaned and crawled towards the door. It was tan colored and rusted around the edges.

"Careful, you will end up chained like me."

"Shut up." The American whispered. He examined the hinges of the door closely. His fingers laced over the metal. It had been welded slobbishly. The concrete was beginning to crumble around the frame. A piece came off in Alfred's hands.

Suddenly, the door was forced open, smashing the American into the wall. He yelped, painfully. His hand was stuck in the hinge, blood ran down his arm as he struggled to free himself. Two guards dressed in black uniforms stepped inside. Both had dark helmets that covered their faces. One snatched Alfred's chain and yanked him out from behind the door.

"Bastards!" Alfred sneered, holding his wounded hand to his body.

The guard moved quickly, shoving the captives head into the wall. It hit hard, cracking the concrete at impact. Alfred glared up at the masked man, spitting blood from his lips. The other guard shut the door. An aluminum bat was slung over one shoulder. It was dented and already bloodied from use.

"Just close your eyes and bare it, it will only seem like it lasts forever." Said the Russian softly. He was smiling at the ceiling. "Soon, you will not notice the pain."


	3. Chapter 3

Alfred laid limp, facedown in the mud. With every breath he took, it felt like an array of needles piercing his insides. Alfred turned his head towards Ivan. Deep mauve eyes glistened out from under his messy bangs. He had been watching him, patiently, for awhile.

"You are still alive." The Russian smiled and sat up, rubbing the bruises on his wrists. The guards had removed his shackles on his arms, without explanation. He had also not been beaten nearly as bad as before. "I was unsure if you would survive, they beat you so badly." Ivan wiped away some mud that was plastered to his cheek.

"Aah..." The youth whimpered at the man's touch. Everything hurt like a bitch.

"It must hurt." Ivan sighed and picked up Alfred's arm. Alfred winced, watching, as it was placed close to the Russian's mouth. The flesh was a deep purple that faded in and out of yellow hues. Ivan ran his dry tongue over the bruises. "Tender." He concluded. His smile had become menacing.

Alfred managed to pull his arm free. His eyes narrowed at the Russian, concluding the man was a freak.

"Did I frighten you?" Asked Ivan, chuckling. "You have nothing to fear. I do not eat the living, however..." He took Alfred and turned him onto his back. A large hand clasped over the youth's mouth and nose, suffocating him. "The dead is a different story."

Alfred thrashed, managing to wrestle the man off and pin him down to the ground. Ivan looked up at him surprised at first, then, he began laughing hysterically. The American glowered down at him.

"Crazy asshole." He said horsely. "You tried to kill me."

"Da, I did." Ivan said, calming himself down. "I was going to eat you, but, now, I find you far too interesting for that."

Alfred got off the older captive and crawled back to his corner where he was out of the Russian's reach. Ivan laid on his back and lifted his head to watch him. He stared at him, humming. A wide grin stretched across his face.


	4. Chapter 4

The guards came in multiple times, Alfred had lost count. Each time they left him beaten and unable to move. His eyes fluttered open, vision blurry, but, he could make out the two purple eyes that never stopped their gaze. He shivered and leaned his head against the wall.

"They left food today, you should eat." Ivan said, a bowl of brown slop sat on his chest. He dipped his finger in and licked it off. It tasted of spoiled milk. Ivan pushed the other bowl towards the traumatized youth.

Taking caution, Alfred reached out and took the food, being sure to keep out of the Russian's range. He held the bowl to his mouth, gulping it down messily. Some escaped down his chin and slithered down his neck. Desperate for more, he licked the bowl clean.

"Still hungry?" Asked Ivan. He still had plenty left, eating it slowly. "I will share, if, I can touch you."

Alfred contemplated the risks,but, nodded in agreement. He slide his hand across the muddy floor, close enough for the man to reach. Ivan softly rested his cheek against Alfred's icy fingers. Although cold, it gave him some comfort in touching another living being.

"I-Ivan?"

The older man's eyes snapped up quickly. It had been quite some time since he had heard Alfred speak, other than cries of pain.

"Da?"

Alfred would not make contact with his eyes.

"When I first met you I told you my name, didn't I?" His voice was soft and raspy.

"Da, this is truth."

"Will you say it?"

A smirk passed Ivan's lips.

"This is an interesting request."

"Just do it." Said Alfred sternly. "Please, say my name."


	5. Chapter 5

"Alfred." Ivan said under his breath. "Shall I say it again?"

His sarcasm was poorly received. The American's eyes narrowed and his hand jolted away. He snatched up the bowl of mush from the other's chest, gulping it down. Some trickled down the wrong pipe making him cough. Alfred covered his mouth with his arm, spitting off to side when the coughing subsided. He stacked the bowl with the other and leaned his head back. Ivan watched the adam's apple of his neck bob.

"Do you think we will get out of here?"

"Yes." The paler of the two men shrugged."Alive? I do not know." Alfred's eyes went to the door. They were as blue as ever.

"I don't understand why we are here."

"I did not, til you came."

Alfred sat up and gave the Ivan his full attention.

"You know why?"

"Da." Ivan chuckled and brushed his hair away from his eyes. "We are not normal. Normal humans would not be able to survive these conditions, but we have. We starve, yet, do not die. Not a single bone has broken in our bodies, no beating has left us unable to move, only temporarily. Our bruises fade away quickly and our pain subsides much faster than it should. "

"That is insane." Alfred said, dismissing the idea entirely. "You are mad."

"How much it is hard to believe, this is truth. Whatever we are, we are not normal." The man on his back, sat up and bent over. "Watch." He said, enticing Alfred. His eyes poked around the Russian's large muscular body.

Ivan took hold of one of his shackled feet and crushed it in his hands. The cracking of bones made Alfred's full stomach lurch, but, he did not look away. With great force, Ivan yanked his foot free. The iron had scrapped his flesh, however, it did not appear to be severally injured. Under the skin Alfred could see the bones rearrange themselves back to their places, he backed away.

"What were you, part of a circus?"

"I am just as surprised." Laughed Ivan running cold fingers over his bruised ankle. He flashed his eyes to the fearful American.

With his foot free, Alfred could no longer move out of Ivan's reach. He pulled his chain, forcing him close. The smell of rotten milk from the American's breath tinged his nose. Alfred was terror stricken, unable to move away. Ivan touched his cheek gently and smiled.

"I have decided on helping you, do not fear me."

Alfred no longer saw the man as human.

"Get off me." He glared and smacked his hand away. "I don't know what the fuck you are, but stay the hell away from me."

"You are the same, Alfred." Ivan said, his eyes intensified. "I can show you proof."

He seized Alfred's throat and tightened his hold. The youth struggled, til his eyes rolled back into his head. There was a loud crunch of his neck breaking and then he crumpled onto the muddy floor.


	6. Chapter 6

Alfred groaned in pain when he awoke. His bruised neck stung and his head throbbed. He suddenly remembered Ivan attacking him and quickly sat up. The Russian was sitting with his legs crossed.

"Sleep well?" He asked with a dimpled smile. "You looked so peaceful."

The shackle was gone around Alfred's ankle, but the dark bruised remained. Ivan had taken the liberty of removing it while he was out.

"What did you do to me?" Demanded Alfred. He touched his neck, but, jerked his fingers away, wincing.

"I broke your neck."

"You..."

The American swallowed dryly, remembering the cracking of bone just before things went dark. His focus went to the door. The sound of it being unlocked made his stomach drop. Ivan stood up. He was much taller than Alfred as realized.

"Will you be joining me?" The Russian asked, holding out his hand towards him. Alfred took it without much thought. His hand was rough and frozen to the touch. It took Alfred a moment to gain balance on his feet. He had not stood in a long time and his footing was wobbly. "Do not strain yourself too much."

The heavy door opened and guards flooded inside. Ivan avoided their hand-swung weapons, managing to steal a nightstick. He moved gracefully, bashing the guard's head in. His movements were almost like dancing, much lighter on his feet than someone of his size was expected to be. As he fought, he smiled. It sent a shiver down Alfred's spine. He was clearing enjoying his revenge.

One got passed the Russian and advanced at Alfred. He dodged him, sending a fist into the guard's gut. Alfred had been in his share of out-numbered fights. When in the airforce, his street brawling was well known.

Ivan was surprised that the American was holding his own against the swarm of black uniformed men. Alfred had seemed so beaten, but, he assumed the strength to fight was due to a rush in adrenaline. The guards suddenly stopped their advances, an eerie silence falling over the room. Five men were sprawled around, some bleeding out onto the muddy ground. Ivan proceeded in removing the largest of the guard's uniform.

"Why did they stop?" Alfred whispered.

Ivan, pulling on a pair of slacks. They were too short for him, his purple ankles exposed. "Perhaps they are waiting with guns just outside the door?" He slipped on the heavy wool coat only able to fasten one of its many silver buttons.

"If they are, we're as good as dead."

"Ah, ah, aah." Cooed Ivan, placing a cold thumb to Alfred's chin. "Death does not come to us so easily, da? If you do not remember, I could demonstrate that for you again."

"Fuck off." Growled Alfred, shoving away his hand.


	7. Chapter 7

Ivan laughed and took off the pants of another guard, handing them to Alfred.

"Dress before we venture out." He said, smiling.

Quickly, Alfred put them on, back turned. The zipper would only zip halfway. He tried to force it up, sucking in his stomach.

Ivan poked his head out the door. Outside the room, was a long narrow hallway. It was dark and led in both directions. He stepped out, pulling Alfred along with him.

"Don't touch me." Alfred whispered.

"After you." Ivan gestured to the left.

"How do you know this is the right way?"

"I do not." Answered Ivan, shrugging his shoulders.

"Great."

Glaring, Alfred went ahead of him. His eyes had gotten progressively worse from the beatings. He squinted to see, using the wet, filth covered wall for a guide. With haste, they moved down the concrete corridor.

The hallway made a sharp turn and dead ended in front of two weathered iron doors. A flickering fluorescent light swayed overhead, making the faded LAB-1 painted on the door visible. Ivan pushed one of the double doors open. The rusted hinges squeaked, echoing through the corridor. They both hurried inside, closing the door behind them.


	8. Chapter 8

The two weary men had entered a large room. It was lined with huge metal pipes that snaked up the walls and disappeared in the ceiling. Some of the pipes leaked fluid. Small puddles gathered in damaged areas of the tiled floor. Most of the room was filled with round cylinder shaped aquariums that were arranged in rows.

"What the hell are these?" Alfred questioned, weaving through the glass columns.

The fluid was murky, making it hard to see what they contained. He walked up to one and cupped his hands to the glass, peering inside. A shift in the tank, moved some of the sediments exposing a pale human arm. Alfred jolted back bumping into Ivan.

"They must be like us." He said sorrowfully.

"Th-they still alive?"

Ivan reached out and touched the glass gently. There was a small label on the glass that had the name of the person contained inside, followed by a serial number.

"Da, I believe so."

"So, they can them up, then what? What is the point in all this?"

"Tell me, when you were captured and brought here, what of it do you remember?"

Alfred tried to find those memories, but, he had none.

"I cannot remember."

"I do not recall it either. Not a single memory of what I was doing in my life. I do not know the age of my daughter, my home, where I worked." Said Ivan, looking at the bruises circling his wrists. "Not even my full name. How long does it take to forget such things? If we were to escape, where would we go if we have no memory?"

Frantically, Alfred racked his brain. The Russian was right. He himself could not remember the life he had been living before.

"Regardless, I aint going to let them put me in a test tube!"

Ivan shoved Alfred onto one of the tanks and cupped a hand over his mouth.

"Hush." He hissed. "Now is not a good time to be yelling."

Alfred calmed down and was released. He trailed Ivan, walking further into the room.

"Ow..." His foot landed on something sharp. "I stepped on something." He whispered, wincing.

Ivan reared around. He bent down to investigate, lifting his foot. A large piece of glass stuck out of his heel. He pulled it free and scanned the floor, it was covered with shards.

"There is glass everywhere, be careful." He stood and continued on.

Straining to see the ground, Alfred, tried his best to avoid the glass.

Ivan had gone farther ahead. He had discovered one of the tanks broken. It looked as though the captive inside had smashed it open. A chuck of the container still remained intact. It had a small label on it, like the others.

_Ivan Briginski, 862-172291._


	9. Chapter 9

Slowly, Ivan backed away. He felt behind his left ear, running his fingers over the numbers branded into his flesh. Dizzy, he leaned against a tank. He felt sick, heaving dryly as he hunched over holding his stomach. If not for being empty, he would have vomited.

"Hey, you okay?" Alfred questioned, keeping his distance.

"Nyeht." He flashed his pale mauve eyes up at the concerned youth. "I need to touch you, just for a moment."

Reluctantly, he nodded.

Ivan gently brushed away Alfred's hair, checking the sensitive area behind his ears. Alfred trembled from the contact.

"Nothing."

Relieved, he moved away his hand.

"What were you looking for?" Alfred touched the spot, watching Ivan close. The elder man smiled meekly and flashed a threatening look over his shoulder.

"It is better if you do not know."

"What is that suppose to mean?" The American said peeved. "We are in this together. If you know something, then, SPIT IT OUT!" His fist hit the nearest tank. The glass cracked and liquid began leaking out.

Eyes wide, Ivan pushed Alfred aside.

"You broke it."

Behind the glass, the subject contained was thrashing. His forest green eyes locked onto Ivan's gaze. Long brown hair surrounded his delicate face. He grasped his throat, mouth gaped, drowning in the unknown substance.

An alarm sounded and red lights flashed.

"Dammit." Ivan, unwillingly, snatched Alfred by the arm and ran.

The American struggled to keep up. Footsteps were approaching, but, Ivan did not know where they came. He lost his footing and both of them crashed to the ground. Alfred lifted himself up, finding that they had been cornered. A wall stood in their path and the guards were quickly surrounding them. This time, they carried guns.


	10. Chapter 10

"Why are you doing this to us?" Snarled Ivan. "WHY?"

Without hesitation, the guards fired. Out of the barrels of the guns came metal barbs. They pierced the skin causing the two captives to spasm as electric current surged through their bodies. After the painful shocks had settled, both were left incapacitated lying in their own secretions.

Ivan was the first to regain awareness. He had been moved to an unfamiliar room. The walls were of thick steel with several strange medical instruments adorning them. A long metal table was in the center, covered in a blood stained sheet. Overhead, a large round light eliminated Alfred, who laid strapped to the top.

A heavy chain was secured around Ivan's neck. His arms had been amputated. Blood soaked bandages were wrapped around his shoulders, covering the crudely done sutures. He was dizzy from the lose of blood.

"Alfred." His voice was soft and meek.

"Ah-ow..." Groaned Alfred. He felt sick and his muscles ached. "Fuck."

Slowly his head turned towards Ivan's voice. Squinting to see, he could barely make out the blurry figure near the wall.

"Are you alright?" Ivan asked. Sweat was dripping from his forehead. He was running a high fever, most certainly from shock.

"Yeah, I think so. You?"

Alfred could not see past the metal bed. Ivan chuckled and sighed.

"Da."

"You sound cheerful." The American snuffed. "Get your ass over here and give me a hand."

Ivan smirked.

"They have me chained well."

"Well, break your bones like last time!" Alfred said annoyed.

It seemed Ivan was only secured by the single shackle about his neck. The elder man shifted his legs. Extended, he could almost touch a leg to the table Alfred was tethered to.

"I remember something now, about my little Anastasia. Her eyes, they were of the softest green. In that room, someone behind the glass brought back that memory." Whispered Ivan. "I wonder if that lovely creature still lives?"

It would be the loud mouthed American's fault if the beautiful lad was dead.

"Why don't you start worrying about our situation instead?"

One of the metal barbs was still lodged into Alfred's forearm, it glistened. The straps that held the youth were nothing more than thick cloth.

"Have you dislocated your shoulder before?"

The metal slab was on locked wheels.

"Once, while playing football. It hurt like a bitch." Grumbled Alfred. "I don't think I can do it on purpose."

Ivan pulled his legs close to his body.

"You need to shift all your weight to one side, towards me."

"Will that work?"

"Da, trust me." Ivan nodded with a reassuring smile.

Alfred jerked his body to one side, grunting. The table rocked, then, crashed to the ground. The American held his breath, holding back cries of pain. His shoulder had hit hard.

"Good boy." Ivan chuckled.

"Fuck you, bastard." Alfred said, wincing.

Carefully, using his toes, the Russian took hold of the barb in his arm. Alfred's eyes widened.

"Hush, do not scream. This will hurt." Ivan whispered calmly. Slowly, he pulled the metal object out of his comrade's flesh.

"Damn." Alfred cursed, clenching his teeth. "Do it."

With a sharp tug, the long barb was pulled free. Blood gushed from the hole it had made.

"Not so bad, was it?"

Alfred gave Ivan a cold glare.


	11. Chapter 11

It took some time to saw through the fabric. Alfred pulled his arm free and took the barb, working on the other side, quickly.

"You are welcome." Ivan panted, exhausted.

The American glared at him. He did not enjoy being patronized.

"I will pick your locks when I'm done."

The elder man smirked and rested his head on the wall. He noticed the long scar stretching across Alfred's chest. It looked freshly made, but, it was near completely healed.

"I think they did something to your insides." He spoke soft.

"What you going on about?" Pain shot through the young American's body. His heart felt as though it was being crushed. He dropped the barb and clawed at the incision. "What did they do to me?" Alfred said through clenched teeth.

Ivan's eyes fluttered. He tried desperately to stay conscious, but, drifted out just as a dozen pairs of black boots surrounded them.

The men unlocked Ivan from the wall and drug him from the room. A deep red trail was left in his wake, staining the tiled floor.

"WHERE ARE YOU TAKING HIM! BASTARDS!"

Alfred's table was pushed upright and the uniformed men began to secure him back down. A piece of tape was forced over his mouth.

"MMmmph!"

He was pushed after Ivan, out of the laboratory and down a hall to a well lit room. Alfred was left, hearing the door close and be locked. White walls lined with mirrors surrounded him. He could see his reflection in the low ceiling. Ivan was bleeding on the floor next to him, his hair plastered over his face. The sounds of chatter could be heard around them.

They were being watched.

_"Our next bid is two for the price of one! Both have handicaps, but would make excellent practice dummies for the Arena."_

A male voice with an English accent spoke over a loud speaker.

_"Ivan Braginski, was imprisoned in his homeland, Russia, for the murder of his eight year old daughter. His body was in hibernation at our facility for the past 1,200 years after a failed execution. He is classified as severely dangerous and a type 2 escapee risk. His arms have been amputated to ensure safety while handling. He is strong and agile, making him ideal for breeding purposes. The other specimen is a recently new find! Alfred F. Jones, an American pilot who was found frozen in the Antarctic. His eyes are poor and requires corrective lenses. Not recommended for breeding, but, a good sparing partner for your potential champion. Both have been equipped with Cardiac Cages, to help control and humanly euthanize, when needed. This is a final sale, no refunds nor warranties offered. The biding will start at 3, 000 Glads!"_


	12. Chapter 12

"That is insane." Laughed a short blonde man with a well defined brow. His eyes were green and he was dressed in wealthy clothing. "Who would pay that much for trash?" He was English.

"_5,000 Glads!_" Cried out the child near him. He had a simular appearance.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Hissed the Englishman, pulling the boy by the arm. "I did not come here to purchase anything. Especially, not a broken piece of rubbish. "

"I want them." Said the boy, giving him a stern look. His eyes were a crisp blue. "Kirkland, you owe me. You said if I behaved around your boss, you would get me something."

"Yes, a toy or a sweet, not two Soulless. Who is going to feed them and take care of them?"

"Soulless do not, have, to eat." The youth stuck out his tongue. "Stupid Drunken Wanker."

"6,000 Glads!" Yelled another man within the crowd.

"Do not speak to me in such a way. I am your father." He whispered, quickly flashing a look over to an elder gentlemen in a brown suit. He was heavy set and smoking a cigar not far from them. "If my boss hears you, I will..."

"You will what?" Sassed the child. "Tell my mother? Oh, thats right, you cannot, cause she was a soulless whore and you are a raging alcoholic."

"You little brat." Grumbled his father. "_7,000 Glads!_"

The youth smirked and folded his arms in satisfaction looking at his soon to be possessions.

_"SOLD FOR 7,000 GLADS_!"


	13. Chapter 13

Alfred heard the door swung open. He squinted his eyes, making out what appeared to be a woman dressed head to toe in white. Upon coming closer, it came apparent she was actually a he. Two large guards trailed behind him.

A small hand, smoothed the hair from Alfred's face. "Alright sweety, lets get you cleaned up for your owner." He had mid length blonde hair pulled back into a bun at the top of his head."Boys, could you get the other?"

The young American was pushed from the room and through a door adjacent from the one he had just been. Ivan was dragged behind him and tossed inside after.

"My name is Felix, I am a Soulless too." The feminine blonde dabbed at Alfred's forehead with a warm wet cloth. It smelled sweet of lilacs. "You probably do not even know what I am talking about." He laughed and produced a slight smile.

"Me, you, and your friend here, are all Soulless. We do not die of natural cause, our bodies are far more durable and we stop aging when we reach maturity. Truth is our kind has always been around, but, secretive until about 600 years ago. Some of us were kept in facilities, like this one we are in. Frozen in time for science and used as test subjects in barbaric experiments. In the Great War our kind were used as soldiers. Nations would send our people to fight rather than normal humans. Afterwards, our people became considered objects. Bought and sold for sport fighting, amongst other things. However, more and more of our kind began to be born, so, 356 years ago a new law was put into place. Roughly it stated that, if the Soulless was born after the Great War, they had all the rights of a normal human being. That is why Soulless, like you cutie, are being searched for. Facilities are running low on Legal Soulless and loosing money."

The tape over Alfred's mouth was gently removed.

"So you wake us up and beat us half to death, THEN SELL US AS SLAVES?"

"Hush, hush, slave is such a primitive title." The boy dressed in white sighed. "You are a high valued possession."

"I am a human being, not a damn poodle!" Alfred spat. "Let me go!"

"Where will you go?"

Silence.

"You have no family nor life to return to." Said Felix, wiping Alfred's chest clean. "What is wrong with having someone to give your life purpose? You were bought by a very wealthy man, I am sure he will treat you well."

Alfred looked down at Ivan sprawled on the floor.

"Is it true, about his arms?"

Felix shut his forest eyes and nodded.

"It is a shame, but, he committed such a repulsive crime." He cast a vicious glare down at the unconscious Russian. "I have no sympathy for murderers."

Alfred had been cleaned and dressed in crisp new clothing. His arms were tethered behind his back. Ivan, on the other hand, was left naked still hunched in a pile on the tile. Felix kicked him with the edge of his boot.

"Up!" He demanded.

Ivan's eyes opened half way. He shifted his gaze up at the blonde and sat himself up. Looking past Felix, he saw Alfred fully dressed.

"Alfred?" His voice was raspy.

"Get up." Commanded Felix, un-patiently. He kicked the man at his feet, hard. "I said UP!"

"Hey." Alfred spoke sternly, standing up from the table. "I will help him, untie me."

Felix hesitated, then rolled his eyes letting the American free. Alfred bent beside the armless man.

"Ivan, I am going to carry you out of here. Okay?"

Ivan looked as though he would pass out any second.

"D-da." He whispered, leaning into him. His body felt warm against him.

Carrying Ivan with him, Alfred was led out to what Felix referred to as the Meeting Hall. He walked, favoring his left leg.

The boy and his father stood waiting for them.

"About time." Grumbled the impatient man, folding his arms. "Hurry it up, I do not have the whole bloody day!"

"Go on." Felix motioned with his hands. "I am not allowed any further."

The young American kept his head lowered and anger in check, continuing towards them. If it had not been for Ivan in his arms, he would have punched the caterpillar browed brit in the face, and then some.


	14. Chapter 14

"My name is Toby, your owner." Said the child, grinning up at Alfred. "You will be my servants and do as I command til I am satisfied."

"Right." The American said in monotone.

He was lead down a short set of stairs to a pair of glass doors. He squinted his eyes against the sun. It had been ages since he had seen the light of day. The kid pulled at Alfred's pant leg motioning towards the limo that sat waiting just outside.

"Come on then." He said, holding open the vehical door.

Alfred got inside, careful of Ivan's head. The youth began to climb in after, but the boy was stopped.

"Sit up front." Said the kid's father.

"What? No."

"Now." The man said sternly.

With a scowl, Toby got in the passenger side and Kirkland got in sitting across from the two men.

"I am Arthur Kirkland." Said the man crossing his legs. "You cost me half a month worth of salary, worthless trash. Are you listening?"

"Yeah." Grumbled Alfred, watching out the window as they drove through the busy city flooded with traffic. Allot of what he saw was blurred beyond recognition.

" The boy has problems attending school, you and the cripple will escort him their and back. I also expect the chores to be done around the mansion, understood?"

"Sure."

"I have called a doctor to do a full physical on you both. He will be waiting when we arrive."

"What is the point in that?" Mumbled Alfred. "Not like I am a person to you."

"You have quite a mouth, for a piece of property."

"I am, not, property."

"According to the law and your papers, you are." The Brit leaned in, intertwining his fingers. "By the looks of your mate, they did a number on you both. I doubt either of you retained any of your training."

"Training?"

"Yes. As a natural Soulless, reconditioning is a must. The more resistance, the harsher the training. You must have put up a fight."

"Wouldn't you? I was beaten for god knows how long, til I could not even remember my own name."

"This is the point, to rid you of memories. Barbaric, but, effective." The Brit raised his hand and Alfred flinched. "I will not strike you. There has been enough of that." He said, gentle touching the American's scared cheek. "How bad is your vision?"

Kirkland's green eyes shone bright with care and sympathy. Alfred trembled , then turned away his face.

"I can see just fine."

"Lying is not your strong suit. I will get your eyes examined as well and purchase a pair of spectacles for you. Cannot have you running into walls." He sighed.

Ivan moved his head, face burying its way into his stomach. Alfred jumped, startled. The sun shone against his death white skin, frightened it may burn, Alfred shifted to shield him from the raze.

"There is another thing."

Alfred snapped up his gaze.

"If you lay a finger on my boy, I will euthanize you both without an ounce of empathy."


End file.
